


Heal

by f1stan



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Comfort, Gen, M/M, Post-Spa 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 03:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f1stan/pseuds/f1stan
Summary: The aftermath of the Belgian GP 2019 for the McLaren team.





	Heal

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. First fanfic since March so be gentle, but I needed an outlet for my emotions after the Belgian GP.

Disappointment. Anger. Frustration. The three emotions most prevalent in Lando’s mind after the Belgian GP.   
“Fuck. Why the fuck now?” he thought, staring at the ground, in his driver’s room, with his hands over his eyes and his head tilted back, trying to stifle his own sobs. His trainer James had picked him up from the entrance of the paddock, making sure he was hidden from the cameras of the TV stations around the world, wanting to capture the moment an F1 driver broke down. He would not let them have that satisfaction.

The first tear fell from his left eye, inevitable, considering the circumstances. One more lap, that’s all it would have taken. Best result of his career in F1, and a beautiful tribute to Anthoine Hubert, gone too soon. He would have let all his insecurities of Saturday night at the back of his mind, in a box to be opened once he had retired from the sport or have been confronted with death in front of his face.   
Risk and reward, he told himself daily. Today was the day where everything went too well. That’s what he bullshitted to the media anyway, with a polite smile and a shrug. He hated these days. 

**************************************

In another room, close-by, the same thoughts were running through the Spaniard’s head. Soy un poco stupido.   
“This could have been avoided” said the reporter on the television, “if he had gone a little wider.” Carlos switched it off. He didn’t need to see the footage to remember the incident. Game over after a few laps. “Can’t recover from this Carlos, we are going to have to retire the car” said his engineer. That caused him to cry out in Spanish on the onboard, trying to keep it clean for the media that were going to have a field day if there was any amount of excessive cursing. 

He remembered when he was at Toro Rosso with Max. Max used to curse a lot and that annoyed a lot of people, so much so that they would keep a swear jar in the garage especially for Max. He usually filled a jar by the end of the weekend and the funds went to a local charity or school as free money for them to spend. 

Carlos smiled at the memory. That was before getting kicked out in favor of Pierre and Brendon. That brought him to Renault and his (hidden relationship) friendship with Nico. He became more self-assured after having been with him. He still was, although it was getting harder and harder to see each other outside of work. He couldn’t help but worry about Nico when he was racing and hoped he would find a seat soon. That brought him back to his now teammate, Lando. He switched the TV back on and saw that Charles had won the race. Carlos applauded quietly from his couch. Congrats, mate. You will go far. That was said without any resentment, just pure support from a man who could appreciate raw talent like Charles’ and Max’s. He knew he would never reach that level, but that was okay. He was within the 20 best drivers after all, and he knew his dad was proud of him. 

Small sniffles through the door linking their rooms caught his attention. 

Lando.

Carlos checked the results and saw Lando’s engine fail on TV. He winced. I should check up on him.

**********************************

A knock on the door interrupted Lando’s thoughts. 

“Lando, it’s me. Can I come in?” said Carlos softly.

Lando tried to subtly wipe his tears. “Yeah, give me a second!” he told Carlos, after throwing some tissues in the bin.   
Upon opening the door, Carlos immediately knew Lando had been crying. It was obvious in the hollow look in his eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks that wouldn’t go away so easily. He closed the door firmly and held his arms out. 

“You want a hug, hermano?” 

Lando dived in his arms, unable to resist one of Carlos’ infamous cuddles. He felt safe and cared for, like his family was with him. Carlos rocked him and started to hum a Spanish lullaby.  
Lando closed his eyes and let the music relax him, drawing him away from his earlier somber thoughts. Carlos moved them slowly to the couch in Lando’s driver’s room, holding him close and humming the song in his hair. A few minutes later, Lando fell asleep, safe and comforted.  
Carlos extracted himself from Lando to cover him up with a blanket and a pillow and sat next to him caressing his hair, finding comfort in taking care of his adopted little brother.


End file.
